Demons of Fleet Street
by VibrantRedisDead
Summary: Toby, now the old crazy drunkard of Fleet Street, discovers that the troublesome duo has never left the Fleet Street residence. Nobody believes him, except Antony. Its up to Toby, Antony, and the new faces of Fleet Street to stop the massacre!
1. Chapter 1

"...Here comes a candle to light you to bed." Tnk. "Here comes a chopper to chop off your head," sang the drunkard as he threw another pebble. Tunk. "Chip chop chip chop - the last man's dead!" He whirled around as he threw the last of the pebbles in his hand. They all hit the dusty window with loud 'chink's. He took another swig of his gin as he steadied himself.

"Quiet down, you buffoon," a man in a top hat said in a hushed whisper. His lady looked at him strangely, and tugged at his arm to leave. "What?" He snapped.

"I'm in a hurry, leave the poor man," She pleaded. He sighed and straightened his clothes out as they went on down the street. The drunkard looked back at the building with longing. The faded cream curtains were closed, not that you'd be able to see through all the dust caked on the windows. The faded golden letters above the shop were imprinted onto the green panel. He sighed and dropped the empty bottle.

"Ten years," he said slowly. "Ten years, Mr. Todd. I know you're hiding." He spat on the ground. "I can see you. You and your 'ittle demons, right through them walls. I hope they eat you, Mr. Todd. Eat you up like you did them innocent peoples."

...

The sky was grey, darker clouds lazily going by, waiting to drop their load of rain onto the dirty streets of London. A large ship pulled into the harbor, its passengers antsy to get off. The sailor men were starting to unload suitcases, when one in particular was trying to get a woman's attention. When he finally interrupted the woman from her dry conversation, he held out a small blue coin purse.

"Thank you," She made a curtsy before taking her purse from the sailor man. She made sure that everything was there before snapping it shut. She hurried off of the ship and onto the dock, shoving her way past people.

"Miss!" She turned around, the same sailor boy from before, chasing after her. He has a large tawny suitcase in his arms.

"Oh!" She took it from him, and pecked him slightly on his cheek. "Thank you, again!" She continued on down the docks, leaving the confused sailor behind. She hurried down the street, trying to get to her destination without tripping over her dress. She went around several corners until she reached Fleet Street. She slowed down, primping in the windows. Her blonde hair was dirty, and messy, hair askew all over. The woman pulled out a small key.

She frowned darkly as she made her way to the door. The brass doorknob was cold beneath her pale hand. The door swung open with a creak, sending dust flying everywhere. She coughed briefly, holding her hand over her mouth. Bugs crawled away from the new disturbing light. She gasped as the looked around the place.

Nobody had touched the place except the dust and pests; it was if time had almost stopped. She ran her finger along a knife, stuck down into a cutting board from its last use. She spotted an old broom in the room's corner. She picked it up, and one by one, the straws all fell out.

"First things first... A new broom." She picked up the rod and dropped it into the trash tin.

...

The drunkard turned back onto Fleet Street, another bottle of alcohol in his hand. He grumbled to himself under his breath.

"Excuse me." The drunkard looked up from the ground. A man and a woman with a small child came over to him.

"Could you tell me where Mr. Todd is?" asked the man. The drunkard began laughing. When he realized he was serious, he stopped and wiped his mouth.

"News has it e's been dead for ten years, 'e has." He looked around for anyone that might be listening. "But I believe... He's still in there somewheres." He tilted his head. "Hiding. What did you say yer name was?" He asked.

"Anthony... Anthony Hope." His voice was dry and sort of cracking, apparently upset by the news.

"Me name's Toby. 'Believe I seen'd you 'round his shops. Used to help wif Missus Lovett's shop. Till she died."

"If she's dead too, then who does the shop belong to?"

"Nobody. Ever'one thinks it haunted. Nobody wants to buy the place. It's a downrigh' mess, anyways."

"Then, if I may ask, who is that?" Both of the men looked at the old shop. Behind the cream curtains was a shadow, of a woman with a broom. Toby went wide eyed, and began shaking.

"I told yous! I told yous they weren' gone!" He pointed his finger at the shadow, shouting at the tops of his lungs. The small child in Johanna's arms began crying.

"Hush, Millie..." she chided softly. She looked at her husband pleadingly.

"We'll go... As soon as I find out what's going on." Anthony walked over to the door of the old shop. His hand closed around the door knob when Toby spoke again.

"I advise you don't do that. Who knows what'll happen." A shot of doubt went through him as he turned the doorknob.


	2. Chapter 2

The door swung open, once again sending dust everywhere. The woman flinched, stopping the broom.

"We're not open yet." She said flatly. Her hair was long, blonde, and messy, coming down over her shoulders. She was wearing a dark blue and black dress, covered in dust and cobwebs. "We should be open in a couple of days, if you'd like something." A spider crawled its way up her hair and stopped on the top of her head.

"Oh. Yes, well… I'll be sure to stop by." He was silent for a moment. "What is the name of this establishment?"

"Ashton's. There should be a post about it after I'm finished setting up." She resumed sweeping. But she paused to look up at him. "It looks like a food shop, but I'm not sure what to cook." She did one last motion with the broom and set it aside. "I don't suppose you have any idea of what I should to here?"

"You're… Asking me for advice?" She nodded.

"You give me advice, and I'll give you some in return." He thought for a moment.

"The lady who was here last made meat pies…?" He suggested. Her blue eyes brightened a little.

"Okay then. I'll try that." She waltzed over to the windows and took the curtains down. "Hmm… These need a good wash." She thought out loud. "Alright then, here's your advice." She leaned against the window. "That lady out there's your girl, right?" He nodded. "Pretty little face… She's going to leave you."

"Huh?" His eyes widened in shock.

"Out you go, love. I've got lots of work to do." She pulled him to the door, and shoved him out. "Keep an eye on her! She's a naughty one, that one is." She slammed the door, and locked it. She pressed her back against the door, sighing. "Men. Head over heels for their ladies." She shook her head.

"Figure I'm going to explore the place as I clean it." She sighed and put her hands on her hips. She felt something tickling the side of her face. She snatched the spider and threw it on the floor. "I better leave you alone so you can eat all them other pests." Just then a rat came across the floor, scooping the spider up in his jaws. It slipped through the window she had opened for fresh air.

"Hey, come back, you!" She picked up the broom and went through the front door, slamming it behind her. The rat raced up the stairs, and pushed open a door that hadn't been shut all the way. She came after it, clomping up the steps. She pushed the door all the way open and cornered the rat. She grabbed it. She walked back to the door, and threw it out into the street, where it got ran over by a carriage. She watched in disgust.

The woman turned back around, looking at another dusty room. It had an old chair in the middle. She walked around it slowly. Suddenly, a trap door opened to her right.

"I've got to remember that… I wonder what else is here." She turned around. A dusty old vanity. She walked up to it, going through the contents. "I wonder who lived here…" She picked up a dual photo-book. She opened it up, and on the left side was a picture of a woman that looked a lot like the one outside of her shop earlier. On the right side was a photo of the same woman, but with a baby. Both were yellowed, and in black and white. She frowned at streaks on the one on the right. Dried blood? She stuck out her tongue in repulsion once more.

She grabbed the handle of one of the drawers in the vanity and pulled it open. So it was a barber shop. That would explain the shattered red and white pieces she found on the street. It must've got knocked off in a storm.

She shut the drawer and left the upstairs room. She went back downstairs, and picked the broom back up, resuming her cleaning spree.

……….

"Well?" Said Toby as Antony staggered back towards the three.

"It's a shop." Antony's voice was strained. Toby looked at him, and then set on a crooked frown.

"Of course, but what's going on in there?"

"I'm not entirely sure. She asked me what she should do. I told her what the previous owner did." Toby's eyes went wide as the door to the shop opened. The woman ran crazily up the stairs after a rat.

"And?! And what did she say?!" He asked, more like shouting though. Toby dropped the bottle with a crash. He grabbed Antony's shirt, shaking him madly.

"Stop!" cried Johanna.

"She said she'd try it!" He stopped, and put his hands by his sides.

"Tries it… Sir, do you have any idea what they 'id?..." His voice trailed off. "Here comes a candle to light you to bed… Here comes a chopper to… Chop…Off…Your…Head."

"Toby, what're you talking about?"

"She tries it. Tries it sir."

"Toby?"

"That's what he did; chopped off people's heads. And my Missus Lovett… Dead. He shouldn't have hurt nobody. Like Mum to me, she was…"

"He's talking crazy, Antony. Please, let's go." The couple hurriedly left, Antony glancing back at the drunken mess that Toby was.


	3. Chapter 3

"Phew!" She looked around. The entire place was presentable, though not entirely clean. She hadn't started on the upstairs yet, but made sure to shut and lock it last time she had gone there. Even the panel outside had in new golden letters; "Ashton's", it read. Fresh paint, too. She was so glad that she didn't have to spend money on getting new things for the shop, sure, the blades needed sharpening, but everything else just needed tidying and a little fixing.

She had a copy of the Morning post, her advertisement clipping showing. "Rosalie Ashton's meat pies" it said. Nothing much, but no doubt will catch some of their attention. She peeked out from behind the new navy and white striped curtains. Hopefully the stripes will catch more attention than the cream. If not, she had them stored away tidy.

"That man from the other day said he'd stop by…" She frowned, hands straightening out her apron. It also matched the curtains, white with navy blue flower stitching around it. Though it wasn't her style, something cheery was sure to drag _someone_ in. She twirled her finger around in her neatly brushed hair.

Something slid off of one of her other fingers, falling onto the floor. She chased after it, and bumped her head on the counter in the process. She fumbled around for the item she dropped. When she found it, she slid it back onto her ring finger.

Six months ago, an Irish man, James Barlow, had proposed. They had been good friends since they were little. He had died only two days after the proposal. Killed, by a roommate, David Kinglet. He had escaped from prison four months later, and she had run away from Ireland back to London, her birthplace.

She sighed at the memory. Rosalie walked outside and up the stairs to her right. She unlocked the room and opened the door. She re-locked the door behind her. Then she went back over to the vanity, opening the drawers. She emptied them, taking out all the contents and setting them on the floor. She dragged over the empty trash tin in the corner, putting the items inside, putting the least fragile items on the bottom, and the picture book on the top. She frowned.

"Something's missing… Oh!" She walked over to the pile of shaving cloths/bibs. She carefully refolded them, checking for vermin, and set them in front of the chair. She them went to pick them up, when she heard squeaking. It was behind the chair, walking towards the lever that opened the trap door. "I thought you got ran over." She tilted her head as it came closer to the lever. "Don't… Move. Stop." She told the rat. It didn't listen and continued faster. It stopped right in front of the lever. "Good rat. Stay… And I'll give you some cheese…" The rat jerked to attention and jumped forward onto the lever.

She let out a shriek as she tumbled down the chute, the cloths getting in her way. Her shriek cut off abruptly as she did a somersault out. She landed onto the cloths, without a scratch.

"I guess it was allergic to cheese." She frowned as she brushed off dirt from her apron. She looked at the backside of her dress. "Oh, phooey, this was a new dress…" She looked around. "I guess this is the basement. I haven't been down here yet." She walked over to the furnace, opening it up. It was actually an oven!

"I wonder why they left this running. Surely it would have set the place on fire!" She slammed it shut tight. The glow from the oven illuminated the whole room. A meat grinder was in the corner, and the floor was all wet. "Oh great, more work! Just when I thought this place was nearly finished…" She noticed a glint in the corner of her eye. "That's what was missing… The razors!" She picked it up by the wrong end.

"Ouch!" she immediately dropped it. Her hand began to bleed, red drops falling onto the silver blade. She picked up one of the shaving cloths and wiped her hand on it. The bleeding didn't stop, so she tore off a piece and began to wrap it around her hand. The basement suddenly went from warm to freezing cold.

"What are you doing here?" Asked a voice. It was dark… A voice she hadn't heard before. She stood up and turned around, and gasped. The razor was only millimeters away from her face. The man had a mark across his neck, and his clothes were stained with blood. She could smell it. Either that or it was the blood on her hands.

"I own this place."

"That's ridiculous, love. I own this place." 'Another person, right out of the oven!' she thought to herself. 'Oh, wait. That didn't sound at all right…'

"I thought I killed you." The man pointed the razor at the woman. She shrugged.

"You did. An lookit, you're not much alive yourself." The man felt along his neck.

"That bastard… He really did kill me. Then what're we doing here?"

"Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt…" Rosalie began. The man put the razor back towards her.

"Right. What's your name?" He had a deep set frown.

"Rosalie Ashton. I just bought this establishment about a few weeks ago." She said bravely. "And you are?"

"I belive I was asking you…"

"Oh, hush. Don't mind him. He's always been uptight. I'm Ms. Lovett. This is Mr. Todd." She patted his shoulder.

"Sweeney." He said, looking away while shoving her off slightly.

"Why don't you put your toys away and we can go upstairs? Maybe for something to eat." Sweeney grumbled something before snapping the razor shut. The three went up stairs, Rosalie behind. They were already upstairs, waiting for Rosalie to catch up.

"Why are you waiting?" Rosalie asked.

"We wouldn't want you to try to escape, would we?"

"Oh, be quiet. You're not helping at all." Rosalie opened the door, and came out, closing it after them. She went around to the front of the store, and began to unlock it.

"Ms. Ashton?" She turned around to see the man from before. She looked behind her, the two were still there. Mr. Todd and Ms. Lovett both seemed surprised that he paid no attention to them.

"Yes?" She said quietly.

"This is my wife, Johanna, and my daughter Millie." Mr. Todd seemed even paler; as pale as dead man can get. "We read your advertisement in the post, and, as I promised, we're here."

"Oh. Right, hold on a second." She swung the door open. She had forgotten to put the pies in the oven before. She walked up to the tray that was set out, and stuck it in the oven. Unfortunately, one of the pies was missing. The small family sat down, the woman's eyes darting around.

"It will be a moment…"

"Miss, are you okay? You're shaking."

"Oh, sure. I'm fine. Just… Uh… A little chilly I suppose." Ms. Lovett wandered over to the windows.

"Dreadful curtains…" She said.

"What was that?" asked Antony.

"Blocking my view!" She said, improvising. She pulled the curtains aside, and screamed. There was a face right in the window.

"Toby? What's he doing here?" said Antony.

"Toby! Oh he looks dreadful!" Exclaimed Ms. Lovett.

"I'm going to kill him…" Sweeney pulled out the razor. Rosalie coughed loudly as they said this.

"Excuse me I've got a bit of cough… Nothing much. Sorry 'bout that." Toby suddenly burst into the store.

"His razor! Thas his razor! It's floating!" Screamed Toby. "I knew it!" Rosalie lunged for Sweeney's hand, knocking the razor out of it.

"Scuse me, just practicing a magic trick, thas all." She said, as she picked up the silver blade from the ground, and stuffed it into her apron pocket. "Can I get you something to drink?" She said, as she fixed a piece of hair into place.

"No thank you." said Johanna.

"Alright then. Toby, would you like a seat?" Rosalie said cautiously.

"No, ma'am. I haven't any money."

"Oh, you poor dear. You can have it for free." Ms. Lovett went to hug Toby.

"Thanks miss!" He said. He walked _right through_ Ms. Lovett. She was shocked for a moment, and then collapsed to her knees on the floor. He sat down at the table next to the Hope family.

"Oh, food's ready!" Rosalie said nervously.

"Missus… Is that… Blood on your apron?" Everyone's eyes went wide.

"Oh, yes, I just cut my finger earlier. That's all." She held up her bandaged hand and unwrapped it. "See?"

"Ma'am, I don't see anything…" Rosalie opened up the oven door, and began to pull out the tray when she saw Mr. Todd's arm reach around to the front of her apron.

"What are you doing you pervert?!" She whispered harshly as she pulled it out. She tried to keep a strait face.

"Taking my revenge…" He said even softer. She nervously put the pies on the plates, watching him go up behind Toby silently. Only the Razor was visible, but they weren't paying attention. As he began to flip it open, she screamed.

"No! Stop! Stop, stop, stop!" She stomped her feet onto the floor, the knives fell off of the counter, spreading around everywhere. She snatched one up that was still spinning and pointed it at Mr. Todd. It looked like she was pointing it at Toby.

"Missus?" asked a confused Toby.

"Ma'am this is too much!" Antony and his family all got up and began to leave. Toby had gotten up, bumping his head on Mr. Todd's arm.

"Wot?" He looked up to see the razor. "I knews it! I knews it!" He sprinted out of the shop. When the door slammed shut, the bell tingling was the last sound heard before the long silence. Rosalie dropped the knife, landing between her two feet straight up and down.

"Ms. Lovett?" Rosalie turned towards the woman/ghost almost everyone had just walked through. "I'm sorry… About… Toby was it? I don't think anyone can see you… 'Cept me." Rosalie flopped down in one of the chairs.

"Who knew dead people were so exhausting?" She sighed as she leaned against the table.

"Johanna… She'll never come back… And my revenge… Ruined!" Rosalie looked at Mr. Todd, then closed her eyes.

"Your revenge… Is going to be the death of me! Those were my first customers, Mr. Todd. And after doing my best to spruce the place up, it's all a waste because the news of me being a loon is going to spread like the plague."

"The death of you. How ironic." She felt the cold blade of the razor against her neck.


	4. Chapter 4

"I wouldn't do that, Mr. Todd. I'm the one that brought you here… So… If I die, you might die… Again… Too." She said voice tight.

"She has a point, Mr. T." Ms. Lovett stood back up. She straightened out her dress. "Hm… It looks like you need a new shirt." Ms. Lovett said pointedly. He lifted the razor from Rosalie neck.

"From murder and revenge to shirts… You really are a strange man, Mr. Todd." Rosalie laughed to herself. He hit her across the face, hard. It knocked over the chair and caused the table to fall over. Ms. Lovett let out a yell.

"That hurt, Mr. T!" Ms. Lovett rubbed the side of her face with her gloved hand. Sweeney lifted his hand to the side of his face too, slowly. Roselia sat up dizzily.

"Where am I?" she said, confused. "Oh yeah." She shook her head and stood back up. She looked at the other two. Ms. Lovett looked back at the window. "So about those shirts…" Sweeney looked at her angrily. "I think I found more like yours when I emptied the dressers out… And a couple of your dresses, I believe." Ms. Lovett's face brightened.

"There's one of those I never got to try on that I've been dying to… Excuse me. Wanting to try it on." She bustled into the bedroom hurriedly.

"Ms. Lovett, your clothes are upstairs." She came back.

"Well wot are they doing up there?" She had her hands on her hips.

"I was waiting to see if anyone would come back for them… So I put them upstairs instead of out in the trash. The only things I got rid of where things that were beyond use. Like that broom. The handle was eaten and the straw fell out."

"That was a gift!" She huffed.

"Let's go upstairs then!" She said, changing the subject.

…………….

The door creaked open slowly, she was careful not to hit anything with it.

"Well, here it is; all the stuff that I haven't been using, and haven't had half the mind to throw out." Rosalie waved around the room. "I haven't been able to find any of the other razors, though." Rosalie frowned and went back over to the tin she had set up with the barber's stuff.

"I suppose there was a barber here… That wouldn't be you, would it?" Rosalie looked back at Mr. Todd, who nodded. "Well, here it is, then. Your barber stuff. Most of it, anyway. It was tough cleaning all this stuff up so it was usable again. The dust seemed to be stained on everything." She picked up the trash tin and turned back towards Mr. Todd. She held it out towards him.

"What use of it do I have now?" He said, sighing. "How are people supposed to come when I'm dead? Invisible?" Rosalie was silent. A sly smirk spread across her face.

"Perhaps… More use of it than before." He seemed confused. "Look here," she snatched up a newspaper she had been reading while she had folded the shaving cloths. "A barber, looking for a job! Ghosts can posses peoples from what I hear, right? A proper scapegoat is all we need."

"We don't even know if we can… Posses peoples." Mrs. Lovett whispered 'posses people'.

"Even if not, you can do the deed still. Get creative! You're invisible!" She tapped her head. "Give the scapegoat ale, and then give the guy a quick shave. Shove him out after he pays before he realizes what's happened." Rosalie crossed her arms.

"You sound like you're talking about more than you know…"

"Probably. But it doesn't matter now. It seems I'm stuck with you two." she teased. "Hey, Mr. Todd… I was wondering what this was for?" she stepped onto the lever, causing the trap door to open.

"I told you, you had no idea what you're talking about…" Rosalie shrugged.

"Mr. T, should we tell her?" Ms. Lovett asked. "Seeing as how we're all stuck, anyways?" She leaned her elbow on the vanity. Sweeney went to the other side of the room.

"I don't see why not. We're dead to the world anyway, and if she tells anyone, she's framing herself too. Seeing as she now 'owns' the place, they'll figure she was a part of it." Rosalie gulped. 'Is it really that bad?' she thought to herself.

"Well, love, we cook people into pies. It's simple really. Mr. T here kills his customers that have come alone, they go down that chute there, and then I grind them into the fillings for me pies." Sweeney lifted up a loose board and seemed to be searching for something. Rosalie was silent for a while, watching him. Then she looked back at Ms. Lovett.

"So that's it? It's really that easy?" Ms. Lovett looked back at Rosalie.

"I suppose. Turning the grinder is sort of hard, seeing as how it's kind of rusty." Sweeney froze.

"What is it, Mr. T?" He hesitated and then stood up.

"My razors are gone… I thought I left them there."

"Well then, Mr. T, we're just going to have to look harder." There was a loud squeak from behind Mr. Todd.

"Oh my…" It wasn't just the one rat from the family before. It was several. And on their backs was a silver case.

"My razors! Those little rats…"

"I wouldn't temp them Mr. Todd. They're sly rats they are. Made off with me wedding ring the first day I was here! Took me all night to get it back. Ever since then they've been stealing little knickknacks. One of me shoes even went missing. Now, if we all corner them…" Everyone raced towards the rats at the same time. The rats stayed until seconds before everyone crashed together. Sweeney was the first one to get up. He had the rats cornered.

"Give me the box now, and I'll make your deaths quick and painless." He held his hand out towards the rats. They were shaking in fear. Suddenly one of the rats jumped and bit his finger.

"Augh!" He pulled his hand back and held it to him tightly. This gave the rats the perfect chance to escape. There was no place for them to escape to, though. "Never mind, then!"

The rats were all standing right in front of the chair, where the trap door was.

"Oh no you don't…" One of the rats was scooting the box towards the lever. All of them began squeaking, and then the trap door opened. He heard the rats hit the sides of the chute, then silence. Then suddenly they began to squeak again.

He shut the trap door, and picked up the box of razors. He opened it up to find the rest of the set, 5 other silver, beautifully chiseled razors. He set them carefully on the vanity. He turned back to Rosalie and Ms. Lovett.

"It seems, Ms. Lovett, that we're back in business."


	5. Chapter 5

I wasn't sure whether or not to write songs for these… My song writing skills aren't very good, though I tend to rhyme a lot when not meaning to. Like later in the chapter… Oh, and I had to rush this because I wanted to post before we went to MI this weekend... So.. Uhm... Yeah. Rosalie talks alot in this one. She's trying to make sense of everything, and still try to be a bit homey when the sinister duo is watching her every move. She's kind of nervous. And stuff.

……………………………………………………..

Rosalie was on her hands and knees, scrubbing vigorously. Once in a while she'd turn the other way, coughing. They were trying to clean up the grinder a bit before it came back to its old uses.

"This thing reeks _awful_…" She muttered to herself.

"Well what do you expect? Phew…" Ms. Lovett stopped scrubbing for a moment.

"Mr. Todd, how come you think that rat was able to bite you? An' it hurt all of us?" Rosalie asked, taking a break also. Sweeney was leaning against the wall, turning his closed razor over and over again in his hand, with a clean shirt on.

"It happened the first time too. When I hit you…"

"Oh, yeah. But do you think the rats are ghosts too? Or maybe they were originally on the property when you died…"

"That could be, but don't you think the judge and them would be here too?"

"Maybe they're the rats that ate their corpses…" Rosalie stood up. "I'm going in to town to but some oil. And maybe some meat too, so we don't look suspicious."

"Good idea. I need a break anyway." Ms. Lovett set down the rag and stood back to look at her work while stretching. "Alright Mr. T, let's go." Mr. Todd stuck his razor in his pocket, before glancing around the room.

………

Rosalie was wiping the counter down, flicking bugs off as she came across them. Once in a while, her eyes would wander over to the two whispering figures, out to the street, and then back to the counter where another bug would be sitting in the previous one's place. After the sixteenth one, she sighed, and rested her elbow against the counter, placing her chin in her hand. She smiled at the feeling of the cold silver ring against her cheek.

The door opened to the shop, the bell jingling. She looked up at the man, with chestnut hair and bright green eyes. She gasped.

"_Why, hello mista', this must be me lucky day!" _Rosalie rushed to the man and ushered him down into a seat. "Pay no mind to them whispa's, how'd like yous a meat pie?" Rosalie glared at the two whispering ghosts, eyes sharply telling them to kindly clog their mouths. She bustled back over to the counter where she picked up a wad of dough. "Peoples say I'm crazy, but none of thems are very creative wiff their stories." She began flattening out the dough with her hands, then switching to her rolling pin. She picked up a meat pie, and it was hard. She frowned. _"My, these are stale… _How 'bout an ale, then?" She suddenly brightened up. She picked up a dusty tin cup and poured some liquid out of a bottle into it. She set it onto the table where the man was sitting, and continued on past. He seemed bewildered. Rosalie picked up another tin tray and swung open the oven door.

"I'll stick these in the oven, you'll love em'. They're me own special recipe."She shut the door hard, then made sure that it was as hot as it could get without burning.

"Actually-…" The man began.

"Ugh, stupid rat! Get off me counter!" She shouted. She whacked the rat off with her rolling pin. She then pulled out another cloth and began to re-wipe the counters, squashing bugs as she came across them. There was a long silence. She was a bit impatient. "I think me pies are done…"

"Ma'am, I came here to-"

"_Oh, look at that, another rat." _She attempted to stomp it while pulling out the tray of pies. "Pies are done!"Rosalie set the tray on the counter, smiling (a strained one) as she burnt her fingers while setting it on a plate.

"There you go." She set the pie in front of the man. "Let me know what you think." The man looked at it uneasily before looking back at Rosalie.

"Actually… I'm not all too fond of meat." Rosalie was blank for a moment.

"…What? Then what'd yous come here for?" Rosalie put her hands on her hips, smile fading slightly.

"I came here about the room upstairs… The barber's place..." He pointed up with his finger. "I'm willing to pay half my earnings for rent." Rosalie raised an eyebrow. She looked him up and down.

"Alright, then. We'll see how you do. Just give me a day or two to clean it out for yas..." The man stood up.

"Thank you…" He pulled out a pocket watch and hurriedly put it back, a worried look on his face. "I must leave. I'll come back tomorrow then...?" Rosalie nodded and then he was out the door.

"That's funny… I forgot to ask his name." Rosalie laughed a little, leaning against the table. She winced, and so did the two others. "He seemed familiar though… Or at least his watch was." She took her slightly burned hand off of the table, and brushed it through her messy hair.


	6. Chapter 6

The grand piano stood off to one side of the room, it was white with golden trim

_The grand piano stood off to one side of the room, it was white with golden trim. On top it had white roses in a clear glass vase. Rosalie was sitting at the piano, showing no signs of nervousness of fear. _

_That's what she really felt right now. Fear. _

_It was etched into the dark shadows from the candles. The room would be cheerful, with its seashell wallpaper and other white furniture, but the state of mind was already set._

_Rosalie positioned herself calmly. She was wearing a white dress also, with a little bit of black here and there. Her fingers began to play the piano automatically. A melancholic tune filled the air as her gloved hands slid gracefully across the keys. Suddenly _he _was there. James._

_She still ceased to smile, like she normally would, as he leaned against the piano with his elbow propping his head up. He had that same love-struck look on his face that always made him look positively goofy. She would always laugh. But not this time. He began to hum. Her face was still concentrated as the shadows began to get longer._

_Suddenly, Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney were there too. The music got louder, more angry, and the shadows even longer. The water the roses were in began to become clouded in red. The petals of the roses also became over saturated in the same liquid. Rosalie wanted it to stop, but no. The dreams always played out into the end. Till when the music stopped._

_Then the music climaxed, pressing the keys all at the same time. David was there, now. David, the murderer of her husband. But only for a moment. Long enough. Then they were all gone. All of them, as she softly and slowly played the higher notes. A twisted smile came across Rosalie's face. Then she was gone too, as the music played the last note._

………………………

"_Nooo!_" Rosalie wailed as she sat up straight. Her heart was pounding in her head. She clutched it tightly, shaking it, trying to empty her head. She attempted to leap out of bed, but ended up hitting her head on the wall because the bed was too close to it. "Oof…" She muttered something as she dizzily got back up.

"Wha's wiff all the racket?" Ms. Lovett came in, rubbing her forehead.

"Nothing… J-just a dream. A nightmare…"

"Well, try not to hurt yourself, love. I haven' seen someone so clumsy that wasn' drinking."

"Yeah, well, I do me best." Rosalie said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I need to finish the upstairs..." She stood there idly thinking before leaving the room. She went up stairs to the near-finished barber shop. She opened the door to see Sweeney, already cleaning it up. She was confused at first, still half asleep, but then slowly remembered their plan.

"What do you want?" He asked gruffly while she was still recollecting.

"Well… I was coming up here to finish me cleanin."

"It's already finished… So you can leave, now." Rosalie didn't get the hint so easily. She wandered over to the vanity where he was cleaning.

"Who's this?" She asked. She picked up the photo from before. Sweeney was silent for a moment.

"My wife… Lucy." He continued to fiddle with the arrangement of the razors. As if it would matter what place they were in.

"Where is she? Is she in traveling? I bet she misses you… Being gone and such. I bet she thinks of you every night." Sweeney suddenly went stiff. Rosalie didn't notice. Instead she began to hum. It was a cheerful tune. She began to walk around the room, twirling around once or twice. Suddenly, she began to sing to the tune.

"_Little Lucy, Little Lucy… _That was me mother's name too, Mr. Todd. Lucy. At least, that's what we called her… _How much do you fare, there? Little Lucy, Little Lucy, for a lock of your hair. Her hair is more golden than any ov'er ring, Little Lucy, Little Lucy, My dear won't you sing?" _She gazed up at the ceiling, the water from the wash bowl reflecting patterns. She glanced in the direction of the new, yet familiar voice. Mr. Todd was now humming the tune. She laughed slightly before continuing.

"_Little Lucy, Little Lucy, watch her dance to and fro, Little Lucy, Little Lucy, oh, look at her go! Little Lucy, Little Lucy, won't you marry me? Little Lucy, Little Lucy, we'll live by the sea... _We'd always sing this song to me mother on her birthday. Me father would play the piano, and I'd always dance with me mother. Then we'd switch, me playing the piano, and me father dancing with her." Just before she started another chorus, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and saw Mr. Todd. He seemed sort of distant. She smiled a little, confused.

"May I… Have this dance?" He said, a little uncertain.

"My, feelin a little adventurous today are we?" She teased. "Alright then…" She began to sing again. _"Little Lucy, Little Lucy…" _His eyes were closed as they danced. _"What beautiful eyes, Little Lucy, Little Lucy, are you in for surprise? I steal you, Little Lucy, to a place with blue skies! Little Lucy, Little Lucy, to where the grasses are green, Little Lucy, Little Lucy, we'll live by the seas. Little Lucy, Little Lucy, Just you and me! Little Lucy, Little Lucy, a family of two or three!" _Just then the door to the Barber Shop opened, and in stepped an angry Ms. Lovett. Sweeney dropped Rosalie, who fell with a thud. Ms. Lovett didn't even wince as she hit the ground.

"I don't mean to interrupt your prancin' around, but I believe it's time to open shop!" She said angrily.

"I'll open me shop whenever the hell I want to!" Rosalie retorted haughtily as she pushed past Ms. Lovett and stomped downstairs. She slammed open/shut the door of the shop, which swung the sign to open.

"It isn' even light out yet!" She grumbled as she took out her frustration on pulling out dough and kneading it. She suddenly felt a sharp pain on the right side of her face. She flinched and started to cry a little. She wiped her tears on her sleeve before leaving to get dressed out of her nightgown and into proper clothes.

When she came back out, Ms. Lovett was coming in through the door, fuming. Rosalie saddened. She knew she'd be nothing more to them than a slave. Not even friends.

She sighed as she went back to kneading dough. She made several meat pies, and stuck them in the oven. The side of her face still stung as she closed the oven tightly. The bell to her shop door jingled and she turned around to see Mr. Todd, who still had his hand over the side of his face. She gasped when he removed it. It was starting to bruise, and there were little scratch marks from Ms. Lovett's fingernails.

"Oh, Mr. Todd… I'm sorry. I didn't…" He glared over at her telling her to shut up. Her mouth became a grim, thin line. Her brows furrowed slightly, and a feeling of paranoia came over her. She glanced into a knife's reflection and there was Ms. Lovett, with another knife. She ducked just as she was about to stab her with it. She ran out of the shop, pushing past Sweeney and apologizing profusely to him as she left.

She heard a lot of shouting coming from the shop as she came down the street. People were doing double takes at the shop, because nobody was there when they looked. She bumped into somebody, and fell backwards.

"Sorry, ma'am… Hey, aren't you… Ms. Ashton?" She looked up. It was the man from before. He was alone, without his wife and child. He held out his hand to help her up. She took it.

"Well… Yes?" She brushed off her dress. She frowned. "And thanks to you, nobody's been comin to me shop…" She sighed deeply. "I can't blame them. They have no idea wot I've been going through." She waved her hands over her head, as if trying to wave away all the rumors.

……………………………………**..**

**Yay? Turns out we couldn't go this weekend. Oh well. Another chappie! Ms. Lovett's got jealousy problems, and Sweeney gets the smack-down.**


	7. Chapter 7

Rosalie had left the confused man behind her as she continued on her way

Rosalie had left the confused man behind her as she continued on her way. She became more and more lost as she went. It was daybreak when she first escaped. Now it was starting to get dark again. She looked up at the street sign. She was now, without a doubt, hopelessly lost. There was a large building down the street. She walked up to a little figure dressed in dirty boy clothes. He was throwing rocks at the windows of the house.

"Excuse me? What is this place?" She pointed at the building the boy was throwing rocks at. The boy fixed his hat and looked up at her. It was really a little girl!

"I finks this is the judge's house, missus. Ah least, I should hope so." She continued throwing rocks at it. Rosalie hesitantly went up to the door and knocked. She turned to warn the girl but she was already gone.

"Oh good, you're here!" A hand pulled her inside. She let out a shout of surprise as she stumbled in over the doorway. The strange man looked her up and down. "Hm… I wonder where they found _you_..?" He had a nasally voice.

"Excuse me… I actually came here to see the judge…"

"I know, I know! He's in there…" He pointed to a halfway opened door. Rosalie made her way towards it, and opened it the rest of the way. Nobody was there. Only books. It was a library!

"I haven't seen one of these since the beach house when I was a little girl!" She smiled. "I might as well look around while I'm here." She came up to one of the shelves, and fingered along the books. She read each one of the titles, smiling a little more with each one.

"Who are you?" asked a voice. She whipped around. The man who asked about the barber shop! What was he doing here? "Miss Ashton?" He asked; eyes wide in terror. She was shocked. Why would he be afraid?

"Yes? I came here to ask the judge for a map, if they might have one."

"She was… Called away for an important meeting."

"Oh. Well, then… What're you doing here?"

"I, uh… Was looking for her too. I just got the news she had left." His words were rushed. She cocked an eyebrow, smile fading a little. "I… Would be willing to find one for you. if you'd like."

"I'd like that very much. Thank you." Her smile returned. He picked up a small pamphlet from the desk and handed it to her. She took it and started to leave.

"Miss Ashton…" She turned back towards him. "Would you mind… If I walked you back to wherever you're going?" He was blushing a little.

"Sure. I was just heading back to me shop. We can finish talking about the barber place upstairs." The man sighed in relief.

………………………………………..

The shop door opened. Rosalie looked around quickly. Neither of the ghosts was there.

"Alright then. All you need is here… But… I need to know your name." She showed him all of Sweeney's barbering supplies. She was still glancing around every so often.

"Carson Benton…" He mumbled.

"Alright, then, Carson. You start…"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, then." she nodded quietly. He turned and left, not another word came out of him. She suddenly felt tired, the gloom of the room getting to her. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. How long had she slept last night, she didn't know. It was cut so short by that dream.

That dream.

She shuddered remembering it. The cold, hard feeling it left behind. But seeing James in it. He was in all of her dreams since he died. Since they met, actually. But since he died, she had always been at that piano, playing music, and James would always have that loving heartfelt look on his face.

She slumped down into the barber's chair, forgetting why she had run away in the first place. She fell asleep quickly.

"_Hey, you. Wake up_." Sweeney whispered harshly. "Wake _**up.**_" He shook her slightly. Her head lolled, and another drop of drool fell onto the chair arm. "_Yech._ Stupid woman. Get out of my chair." She mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep. "_**Get up! **_I don't need your disgusting slobber all over my chair!" He shook her roughly. She finally opened her eyes slowly.

"Mm… Mr. T?" She mumbled sleepily. Her eyes shot open. "Mr. Todd, what are you doing?! Let go of me!" He let go of her and she went tumbling over the side of the chair.

"I knew it, right from the start you were up to no good! You're such a pervert!" She shouted, face pink. He was shocked at first, and then suddenly got angry.

"I am not! You're the one who fell asleep in my chair in the first place! _**Get out!**_"

"Gladly!" she spat on his chair angrily. She meant to spit on the floor, but being a klutz, she had bad aim. "Oops…" She looked back at Sweeney, whose face was extremely red. "I… Uh…"

"_**OUT!!" **_Rosalie jumped and started for the door. She tripped, and Sweeney flinched every step of the way down. He slammed the door behind her, and immediately got to scrubbing the dark spots where she had drooled away.

"Stupid women… The last thing I need is them dirtying up my space…" He glanced back over at the picture of his wife. The lad from before didn't even question it. Was he even paying attention to anything around him?

"Mr. T…?" Ms. Lovett opened the door slowly. "There you are!" She came inside. "What's wiff all the trouble, now? First you're dancing wiff… What's this now?" Ms. Lovett bent over, picking up Rosalie's silver ring. "I didn't think she was the type to cheat on 'er husband." Ms. Lovett said mischievously. Suddenly the door burst open, Rosalie was panting out of breath.

"Give… It… Back…" She said angrily, an icy edge to her voice.

"Now, love. I haven' seen you like this…" Ms. Lovett said nervously. She was actually pretty… _Scary_ when she was angry. Ms. Lovett took a step backwards. She glanced from the ring to Rosalie before giving it back. "Who was it, anyway?" Ms. Lovett asked. "Your husband… Where is he?"

"Dead…" She muttered as she slipped the ring back on. Rosalie seemed to be a little out of it.

"Oh…"

"Murdered… By… That… Man…" Rosalie stared at her hand for a moment, clenching and unclenching it, before letting out an exasperated sigh. She left the upstairs room, carefully going down the steps. Ms. Lovett suddenly looked relieved.

"I had no idea. She's always so cheerful. Just about gave me a heart attack, that look she gave me. You're not listening again, are you?" In fact, he was staring out the window, stroking one of his 'friends'.


	8. Chapter 8

Rosalie had turned in early that night to catch up on sleep, to no benefit

Rosalie had turned in early that night to catch up on sleep, to no benefit. She spent most of the night tossing and turning. When she finally gave up, it was the middle of the night again. She was very frustrated for no particular reason, and her eyes hurt. She frowned deeply, and got up. She looked at herself in the vanity as she splashed water on her face.

The same shadows beneath her eyes reminded her so much of the little girl from six years ago. 'It wouldn't happen again,' she had promised herself. She wasn't so sure now. She sat out at the counter, face buried in her hands now. It has always been 'forgive and forget'. It got her nowhere, but kept her in a state of false happiness. All she had were those dreams… Those dreams of her deceased was-to-be husband.

The shop door opened, and in stepped Sweeney. He was shocked to see her up, but stayed quiet.

"I'm sorry about earlier…" She said hoarsely. "I didn't mean to spit on your chair. I have bad aim is all." She looked up at him sorrowfully. "I just been thinking… About me husband. I've always been trying to forget him, but it becomes worse and worse. So… I guess I just have to stop running, you know?" He was silent, stopping in the doorway to the living room. "So… Um… If you don't want to listen, that's fine…" She looked up at the ceiling, running her fingers through her hair. "But I've got to tell someone. You could pretend to listen... Or I could go talk to Ms. Lovett if she doesn't try to kill me again." She smiled dryly.

"'As not funny!" She heard Ms. Lovett complain from the living room. Obviously it was something Sweeney did. Either that or it was the rats. She couldn't be sure now.

"So… I was six when me dad went missing. We went out to get tidied for their anniversary. Never came back. Tore me mother up. She wouldn't talk anything logical. Fierce mutterings, but that was it. It scared me. I think me father's disappearance messed me up even further as well. I wasn't a very pleasant child then." Sweeney began to lean against the doorway, probably watching Ms. Lovett chase the rats if her predictions were correct. "Not even a year later, on me seventh birthday, she committed suicide. Didn' even cry at the funeral. I was left in the orphanage, none of me other relations were fit, head wise, to take care of me. They were all in an asylum of some sort… So I stayed there for a bit. I didn't like it at all. I attempted to escape, and on the same night, James happened to be trying to escape too. God, he talked a lot." Rosalie shook her head.

"Told me his whole life story up to that point! All his relatives were either rotting in jail, or already hung, except for one aunt who lived in Ireland. He planned on running away to there. He tried to drag me along, and since I had no place to go, or any time to tell him no, so we were stowaways on the next ship there."

"My, you were adventurous then." Ms. Lovett quipped. Rosalie was silent for a moment.

"He was the one who actually pushed me out of the window. I was having second thoughts on leaving the place. I always admired him for that. I was ten when we escaped. Twelve when we got to Ireland. We got on the wrong ship at first. The next port, we finally found the right one. When we got there, his aunt greeted us so happily. I wasn't sure how to react. James was the only friendly face I had seen the whole trip, and after all the not-so-legal stuff we did, I was rather uncomfortable around anyone.

"But if anyone could make me talk, they could. She was like a second mother to me. We'd spend our whole summer out back by the creek. She constantly complained how pale I was. I didn't mind. I was just happy not to be hiding in animal crates anymore. But when we had to go to school there… I was back to my old self. Quiet, and predicting how each of them were going to die." Ms. Lovett's face was in the doorway, showing nothing but astonishment. "I was homeschooled before by my mother. At the orphanage, I didn't go to school, either. I learned a lot faster reading out of the library… But at the public school, I got angry at a girl who constantly beat on me. I ended up hitting her in the head with a book, breaking her neck. Never seen her again. I wasn't sure what happened to her. I was grieved with guilt, so I decided to forget. Everything. It was hard at first, because James kept on bringing up the sudden changes in attitude. Though I was slightly happier, it worried him.

"I didn't go to school anymore after that. I stayed at his aunt's place, helping her keep house and such. When she passed away, that finally woke me up. I cried over her death, the first time I'd cried in a long time. James didn't shed a tear. Apparently he'd known his aunt was sick for a while. Being prepared for people's death makes it much easier to handle. I hadn't ever thought of his aunt dying. But that just reminds me how naïve I am about everything. I thought we were alone in the world. Every one else was truly evil and against us. He tried to pull me out to be social. It didn't help. It made it much, much worse. I thought his friends were a bad influence on him. He promised that we'd move somewhere else when he married me. I was in completely stunned after he proposed. Not long after agreeing to marry him, he was killed… By his roommate, David Kinglet. He had been kind enough to rent him a room at the house and he killed him…

"After that I was alone. The police took away David. I had no friends. There was nothing in Ireland for me except a large empty house. Everything went from green to grey. And as soon as I got news that David had escaped his hanging, I left Ireland. Legally, this time." Everything came out in one big sigh. Rosalie was looking out of the window, suddenly feeling much lighter. She sighed with relief. She missed James, but was no longer sad. He wouldn't have to see her as the Loon of Fleet Street. Or how peculiar she had come to be, an almost opposite of the Rosie he knew. "So here I am. Thanks for listening… Or pretending to very well." She laughed to herself quietly. "I think I'm going to go into town before I have to open shop and get Carson settled upstairs." And with that, she left.

Ms. Lovett looked up at Sweeney. "You could learn something from her, you know." Sweeney hit the back of her head, not very hard, though. Just enough for her to quiet.

All of a sudden, the door to the shop opened, and in stepped Carson. Sweeney finally turned around, a deep set frown on his expression.

"Ms. Ashton?" He called out for her. He looked around the room for a moment, before leaving. They soon heard the man going up the stairs.

"Should we follow 'im?" Ms. Lovett asked.

"No. Stay here… I need a word with him…"

"No, Mr. T! Are you crazy?!" He paid no notice to her and went upstairs. He opened the door to see Carson playing around with his razors. Carson didn't notice the door open. Instead… It looked as if he were trying to remember how to hold it.

"You hold it like this." He said, turning the razor over in the man's hand. He disliked having someone else touching his friends, but Carson wouldn't be doing the shaving, obviously.

Carson's eyes went wide, and he began stuttering.

"Don't make such a show of your foolishness. You're not even a barber. Haven't even held one of these before, I see." Sweeney said sardonically. Carson's face flushed.

"Who are you?" He finally managed.

"Like I'd tell you. You're just a fraud. Lying…" He thought about it for a moment. Not a real barber. Watching Rosalie with an idiotic expression on his face. "Ah… I see. Lying to impress a certain person down stairs." He smirked as Carson's expression showed he had hit spot on.

"Of course not! You… Where are you?" He looked around for Sweeney, though he'd never be able to see him.

"I'll make you a deal." He said calmly as the man wandered around the room. "You call them up… And I'll do the shaving." Sweeney leaned against the chair, causing it to creak. Carson gawked for a moment at the chair. "Shut your mouth. You're going to catch something with it hanging open like that." Carson shut his mouth tight. Thinking about it for a moment, he nodded.

"Good. Now, did you put something in the post about the shop?" Carson shook his head, still looking around. "My god, are you dense. If they don't know about the shop, how the hell are you going to get customers?" Carson bit his lip. "Well, _**go!**_" Within seconds, Carson was out the door. Sweeney went out after him, quietly closing the door. As he went down the stairs, he saw Rosalie. She was heading back towards the store with… With…

"_My God…"_


	9. Chapter 9

"Aren't they adorable

"Aren't they adorable? They were for sale, and weren't very much at all! I thought they could keep the rats in line!" Rosalie clasped her hands together, smiling. "I thought this one might make you laugh, Mr. T." Two cats. Cats. He hated cats. They were disgusting, and hard to keep out of trouble themselves!

Rosalie picked up an all black cat, except for its left ear and its two front paws, which were all white. She held it up next to her face, smiling big. Ms. Lovett giggled.

"Well, at least someone like him!" She held the frustrated looking cat in a different way, like she would a baby. She made a goofy face at it. It looked over at the brown tabby pleadingly.

"Ugh… Take them back!" He said. Rosalie looked at him, puzzled.

"Why? Don't you think they're cute?" She absent mindedly rubbed the cat's belly, who closed its eyes and began to purr in pleasure. Sweeney moaned in repulsion.

"Hm… I wonder if Mr. T. does that too." Ms. Lovett said, smirking.

"Don't…" Sweeney growled. Ms. Lovett shrugged, still smiling mischievously.

"Well, think about it, Mr. T. That one really suits you. Cunning, cute…"

"Ms. Lovett, not another word. Rosalie, take the cats back."

"No." Rosalie crossed her arms after setting the cat down. She turned her back to him.

"What?!" Sweeney pulled out a razor. One he had pulled off the vanity earlier.

"Real man you are... Threatening girls with a shaving tool. I should've known." She teased.

"I'll show you…" He advanced towards her with the razor. Rosalie sighed.

"Do you have any idea… How that sounded? This only proves that you're a pervert." Ms. Lovett gasped and whacked Sweeney.

"Hmph!"

"I'd rather put up with those flea bags than you two…!"

"So does this mean we're keeping the cats?" Rosalie asked thoughtfully. The black/white cat leapt up on to the table, grouchily watching the argument. Sweeney was quiet for a moment. Her smile suddenly changed to impish one. "You know… It's more like you than you know… Grumpy." She teased. Rosalie scooped up the Black and White cat, skipping off with it into the living room.

"She has a lot of confidence, that's for sure." Ms. Lovett said, shaking her head. The tabby let out a confused meow, all the events going by to fast for it.

"Too much." Ms. Lovett sighed.

"Mr. T, you have to admit, she makes the air brighter around here. It'll do this town some good." Ms. Lovett looked out the window. Toby was staggering down the street, trying to tell people stories, or beg people for ale. Suddenly a little boy… No, wait, a girl in boy clothes, walked up to Toby. They exchanged some words, and Toby suddenly relaxed. Rosalie came back out into the kitchen, frowning.

"Well… That one just went to chase down one of the rats." Rosalie picked up the tabby, which was glad for the attention. She looked over at Ms. Lovett, back out the window at Toby, and back at the cat. She smiled, and idea popping into her head. She left the shop, and went over by Toby.

They talked a little, his eyes sort of darting around. Rosalie handed him the cat, and he was confused for a moment. She whispered something in his ear, and he nodded, understanding. Then she came back into the shop, practically skipping.

"Wot was that for?" Ms. Lovett said, not understanding Rosalie's actions herself.

"Well, I figured if he was going to hang around me shop, he's going to have to look less gloomy. And who knows, he might spread some good word instead of his stories." Rosalie smiled. _'Besides, he looked like he needed a friend anyway… Not to mention spend money on something other than alcohol.' _Ms. Lovett smiled as well, confusedly.

The black and white cat strolled into the room, a matted brown fur mess in its jaws. It strolled over towards Sweeney, who was planning to kick the cat across the room. The cat suddenly dropped the rat down at his feet before chasing after something else. He tapped the rat with his foot. It was limp, dead.

"Yuck." Rosalie commented. Sweeney picked up the disease-ridden rodent by the tail and dropped it in the trash tin. Sweeney looked at the utter revulsion on her face.

"Fine. We can keep _that _cat, if I don't see another one of those rats nicking anything." Rosalie wasn't so sure she wanted the cat anymore.

"If you say so…" Rosalie's voice wavered.

……………………………………

Short compared to some other chapters… Sorry. DX


	10. Chapter 10

"Hello

"Hello?" A man opened the door to the upstairs room. It was dark and raining outside. "I believe… I had an appointment this afternoon."

"Of course. Come, sit." It was too dark for the man to see, but he felt a hand lead him to the chair in the middle of the room. There were no lights up here, but that was probably best for the bystander.

"And what am I doing for you today?" He listened to him, though there was no need to. The bystander left the room, quickly and without making a sound when shutting the door. He nodded as he left, flicking open the razor.

'_The tired whispers grow stronger…' _He thought as he caught the reflection. The moon glimmered through the rainclouds, causing him to see his old self. He was slightly jealous. He had no troubles then. Only the judge was in his way. But he was gone now. No obstacles.

The razor cut the man's throat open wide, the white cloth catching the rubies as they fell in rivers. The trap door opened as the chair straightened out. He listened satisfied as the body hit the sides of the chute.

"…_With each drowning scream of the soul." _He said aloud. That was the last one for the night; the sun should be rising in a few hours or so. He looked out the window of the door to his shop.

Rosalie was bustling around outside, serving customers. He leaned against the door, watching her. Carson was also watching her, as well as Toby.

Toby had definitely changed in the past 2 months. After Rosalie had given him the cat, he couldn't afford his gin. So he was forced to find a job, and to his luck, came across a well paying one at the docks. The cat, now named after Ms. Lovett, had gone fishing (it was an odd cat, enjoying water more than the fish), when it came across Mabel. She was a middle class woman, who instantly fell in love with Toby's cat. And along with the cat came Toby, so they became quick friends.

Of course, Toby had his suspicions about Rosalie still, who had also changed a lot. She wasn't used to so many people, so she kept to herself more. She was often nervous, and her already sunken and shadowed eyes became frequently darker, causing her light blue colored irises to stand out more. Though, in a whole, she seemed more and more pretty everyday.

The crowd there reminded him of Ms. Lovett downstairs, stripping bones and turning the grinder all day. Rosalie was sensitive about it at first, but gradually got used to helping her downstairs. Ms. Lovett had more free time and was less tired that way than she was before. Speaking of her, she was just now coming out to the crowd. She waved at Rosalie, who followed. Undoubtedly taking care of his last customer. As the two disappeared, he cleaned up his razor.

In it, he saw Benjamin Barker. He held it up so it looked like he was next to his Lucy picture. He frowned and shook his head. He had put off his plan to get rid of Rosalie for such a long time. It worried him.

The Sweeney side of him anyway.

And that was all the girl knew about. That side… The only part of Benjamin she knew was that Lucy was his wife. She often asked about Lucy. He'd always give an answer, though it was never the straight one.

"You could always lie to her about it…" Sweeney looked up from the picture of his wife. "Or you could flat out tell her she's dead. It's not difficult." Ms. Lovett walked up behind him. He glared at her through the mirror.

"You left her alone downstairs?"

"Yeah… Why? I was just havin' her clean up a bit…"

"I just sent some-," Sweeney was interrupted by a scream, and a faint pain in the back of his head. "It must've gotten stuck in the chute…" Sweeney started to get up to go downstairs. Ms. Lovett stopped him, grabbing tight on his sleeve. She pulled herself close to him and wrapped him in a hug.

"Leave her. She's fine." Her words were muffled in his shirt.

"Quit." He shoved her off and continued downstairs. "If those boys get down there before we can lock it…" He couldn't see them outside, and he quickened his pace. He finally got to the basement. The body wasn't there. Nor was anything currently going… Or anybody down there.

He looked around, wondering what the scream about. When Ms. Lovett came down, he sent her right back up the stairs to search for Rosalie. She refused at first, but after a sufficient amount of shouting and threats, she went up to look. He finished looking around and went back up to the main floor. Most of the crowd outside had disappeared, only a few drunkards lingering.

He helped Ms. Lovett search the house, but Rosalie was still missing. Sweeney watched Ms. Lovett do a quick search one more time before declaring her missing. He sighed and looked out at the street.

Toby was standing in the middle of the street with his cat, looking around for something… Or someone.

………………………………

_The room's faded floral yellow wallpaper was familiar. She knew where she was. The orphanage where she stayed her last years in London. She saw herself, a little pale girl with almost white blonde hair that was way too long and hung in her eyes. She was wearing boy's clothes instead of her usual dress. She hid all her long hair under the boy's cap, but she kept her bangs in her face._

_She was standing in front of the window, rucksack over her shoulder. She wasn't sure what to do. It was to far of a jump, and she didn't want to scratch her arms on the bushes._

"_Well, waddaya waitin' for?" A voice said. She felt a hand push her out of the wide open window. She was to shocked to scream as she fell down into the bushes. Suddenly another person joined her in the brush. His head popped up energetically out of the leaves. He had messy thick, messy black hair._

"_Name's James!" He did a little salute, eyes closed because he was smiling so big. She was silent for a moment. His smile faded a little, but he was still smiling. He opened his eyes. They were a chocolaty brown. "Oh…" His face was neutral for a moment, and then it returned to a smile. He reached over, hand gently moving aside the near white hair to reveal her eyes fully. "Wow…" He muttered._

"_You're a song waiting to happen!" He exclaimed. She looked at him confused and shocked. "What's your name?" He asked excitedly._

"_Rosalie…"_

"_Alright, then," He stood up, and then helped her up too. "Let's go, little Rose! To the docks! We're going to my aunt's! Over in Ireland!" She looked at him as if he were crazy. He put his arm so she could hook hers through it. She hesitantly slipped her tiny arm through. He then jerked her close, causing her to let out a tiny squeak._

"_You ever beened to Ireland? I was born here, but I been there once, I think. To visit my aunt. But that was before all the rest of me family got arrested." He was remotely cheerful about it. "Me parent's weren' very nice peoples." Rosalie nodded. It went like that for a while. His talking and her nodding. Just as her neck started to hurt, they had reached the docks. They stopped._

"_Rosie…" He turned her to face him. He was his adult self. "Promise me…" He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Promise me you'll be good." Then he turned and left, his hand slipping out of hers. Her eyes filled with tears as he left her behind._

………………..

Rosalie opened her tear filled eyes. Something had hit her on the head while she was cleaning up in the basement. It still hurt. She was lying on someone's bed… She suddenly became alert. She looked around panicking. This wasn't her room. It was way too big to be hers. She sat up, quickly. A moving figure caught the corner of her eye.

"Carson?!"


	11. Chapter 11

"Guess again…" Rosalie blinked, tilting her head

"Guess again…" Rosalie blinked, tilting her head. "Remember this?" something small rolled across the floor. It was a small green glass vial. She pursed her lips, but her face remained a blank card. "Miss Rosalie… I was really expecting more of you." He sounded astonished.

"Why? Couldn't you just leave me alone?" She mumbled. The silhouette came out of the shadows. It wasn't Carson, but looked remarkably like him. But all the same, she was scared and angry at the same time. It was David; the murderer of her was-to-be husband.

"My dear, I just wished to end your misery. You're the talk of the town, and I believe we both know how you deal with people…"

"Oh, shut up. I'm doing just fine!"

"Obviously. I've been watching you. You're a nervous wreck. Dealing with people is not your… Cup of tea." His eyes flickered to the vial on the floor.

"No. I suppose it's not…" She took advantage of his distraction, and put her hand in her bodice, producing a silver hand pistol. "But then again, I'm not all too fond of tea." She cocked it, and his attention went back to her.

"It's not very lady like to be using a gun…"

"And it isn't very manly to be attacking women. Move an inch and I'll-," The door burst open.

"Rosalie? You! Don't move!" Carson leapt into the room, his own hand pistol aiming at David. "Get out, Rosalie." David raised his hands, laughing.

"Hello, Carson…" He said, still laughing.

"Why? I want to watch him die." Rosalie whined.

"Get out. Just in case he tries something…"

"No. I can stay…" She insisted.

"Get out, now, Rosalie. I don't want him to hurt you. Go back to the shop. Get some rest before you reopen it. You've got customers that are relying on you to open in time. Don't thwart their expectations.…" He looked at her pleadingly.

"Don't be telling' me what to do! It's me own shop and I'll open the damn thing whenever I want!" She picked up the vial from the floor and stormed out, muttering curses. "Men. They're so full of themselves! An' Carson!" She growled beneath her breath angrily. She suddenly realized where she was. The judge's house? Why did he…? The idiot was mad, of course. But she didn't think he was mad enough to take her there.

As she closed the front door behind her, she heard a meow. She looked down the street to see the black and white cat. He tended to follow her everywhere. He must've been shut in a cupboard or something again. She bent down on her knees, and the cat leapt into her arms. She smiled and held him close, then continued down the street.

"Ah, Little T…" She said softly (can you guess who he's named after? Such creativity…). "Sometimes I think you're the only one to listen to me any more. What with all of the busy business we have going on. Life is strange… Bein' chased around by mad men, an' everybody looking at me while I run around doing chores. I mean, some of the customers don't even order anything! I wonder why that is?" She held the cat up to her face. He looked at her lazily before roughly licking her nose. "I guess that means you're hungry, then?" She sighed.

…………………………………..

"Mr. Todd? Missus Lovett? I'm back…" Rosalie looked around the living room. They were nowhere to be seen. "Oh, well." She fell back in the chair. "It's been a long day…" She rested her chin on her hand, gazing into the fireplace. Little T leapt into her lap, purring and falling asleep. She petted him silently.

………………………………..

Rosalie jerked awake. Little T was hissing at something. There were footsteps upstairs, and they didn't sound like Mr. Todd's boots, or Ms. Lovett's little shoes. They were child's footsteps, and they were trying to be stealthy. Rosalie went up to investigate, and inside, she saw the little girl in boy's clothing that was friends with Toby. She was looking around, and playing with some of the stuff there.

Rosalie crept in, and went behind the girl. Rosalie watched her for a moment and right before deciding to shove her out, the girl accidentally cut herself with it. Her finger started to drip blood.

"Oh. Ah, hold on!" Rosalie was going to find something to wrap the cut in. The girl jumped, and swung out with the razor in fright. It cut Rosalie's arm, tearing through the sleeve. "Auch!" (a mixture of Ah and ouch…) She clutched her arm and grabbed the razor out of the girl's hand, once again cutting the same hand she had accidentally cut the first time.

"Oops!" The little girl bolted for the door, but stopped. In the door way was Sweeney. The girl's jaw hung open in shock. "I-I-I..." She stuttered.

"Wait… She can see you?" Ms. Lovett came up behind him, trying to look at what was going on. Rosalie went down on her knees, staring down at the floor, sharp part of the razor still in her hand.

"T-the both of-,"

"Rosalie…? Hold on, love. Don't kill her, yet…" Ms. Lovett said. Her lips became a thin line as she saw Rosalie's bleeding mess of an arm. Sweeney pushed past the little girl, who stumbled backwards. Rosalie looked up at him for a moment before looking at the floor again.

"Here's your… Razor…" She held it out to him. He hesitated, took it, and they winced. The blade had gone far into her hand, almost completely through. Ms. Lovett stood still in the doorway, completely silent, watching her bleed as if in shock. But that's not exactly what her expression read.

"Ms. Lovett, go get me some cloth…" Sweeney said quietly. She waited still, until he barked at her to do it. She tore up one of the barber cloths irritably and tossed it to him. He tore off the rest of the mangled, bloody sleeve, and wrapped the cloth around it.

"This will have to do until we get some proper bandages…" Sweeney then left with out another word. Ms. Lovett went out behind him.

"I'm really sorry… I didn't mean…"

"No, no, it's fine… I'm still alive… I just been thinking is all." Rosalie stood up.

"I mean it. Let me help you… With shop? You aren't mad?"

"No… I suppose not. Forgive and forget is your best bet, I suppose. Besides, it doesn't hurt as much as it did before. Can' feel it at all." She shook her arm and flexed her fingers, flinching slightly. "I'm still a small bit tired, I suppose. Got to… Get some more rest in before shop opens…" The little girl looked at her worriedly for a moment, before running back outside.

Rosalie shut her eyes, thinking a bit more. She then took something out of the pocket of her apron. The small glass vial seemed to glow in the semi darkness.

……………………………………………………..

"Miss Ashton? Miss Ashton, are you here? I have something I need to tell you…" Carson crept into the shop. It was silent, not even the scuttle of a rat over the dirty floor. "Where are you?" He muttered. He went into the living room, and saw her. She was fast asleep in the arm chair. He could hear her slow breathing, occasionally she'd mutter something.

Her sleeve was ripped off, but was wrapped in a different, bloodstained cloth. What wasn't covered with cloth was covered with scars. Small, thin lines crossing each other up and down her pale skin.

He noticed something slip out of her hand; a piece of paper, and an empty, small glass flask.


	12. Chapter 12

"Miss Rosalie, is this really necessary

"Miss Rosalie, is this really necessary?"

"Yes, Stewart. I've got to know. If I'm going to hell, I might as well know _why._"

"I'm a _steward_, and my name isn't Stewart. And the reason why, you know very well." They hurried past several bookshelves in the white abyss.

"I didn't really have a choice, now did I? Might as well enjoy it."

"You were going to go to Hell in the first place…"

"Oh really? Why?" Rosalie dragged the wheeled ladder over to a certain spot.

"Witchcraft, to simply put it. You _cheated death_. It's not exactly fair for the rest of us, is it?"

"Life isn't fair. And I didn't cheat. I'm just lucky." she pulled herself onto the ladder, and warned 'Stewart' to not look up. "And besides, I was little then. It was a hobby, I suppose."

"We're getting off topic here. You don't even have permission to access this sort of information."

"We're friends. And I thought I told you not to look up?"

"You're not friends. You're a tool. And incredibly naïve."

"Well, this naïve tool has a business to run, and has to get back to consciousness soon. Stop talking and help me find it!"

"What's the name again?"

"Sweeney Todd. Are you sure it's here?" Rosalie started to pull books off of the shelf, tossing them down at the steward.

"Positive." He grunted as another book was added to the stack. "Everyone's on one of these shelves."

"I know that… Hey, it's not here."

"You're kidding me? Maybe it's spelled differently."

"How many ways can you spell 'Sweeney Todd'?"

"Maybe it's in a different section?" Rosalie frowned, throwing another book at his head.

"Yeah? You think they'll have him in one of those fashion posts? I'd rather not know." Rosalie rolled her eyes, and came back down the ladder.

…………………………………..

Sweeney was pacing back and forth angrily, a strange sense of numbness creeping through his ghostly veins. Carson sat silently, frustrated as well as scared. He had just learned there was another ghost than the original one he had met. He couldn't see either of them, but the dirty street girl somehow could.

"What are you still doing here?" Sweeney said, still pacing.

"It's my fault. If I had'n been touchin' your stuff upstairs… I wanted to make it up to 'er and help wiff shop…" Sweeney continued his pacing, as Ms. Lovett went through the bookshelves, and Carson re-read the note to himself.

'_Don't wake me up…' _

She truly was mad. Carson shook his head in disbelief. Of course, they had tried to wake her up. All eyes would turn to her as she'd mumble something unintelligible.

"She brought an awful lot of books…" Ms. Lovett muttered. "Look it. Some of these aren't even in English." She paused at a small, black, nameless book at the end of the second topmost shelf. She reached for it, pulling at the edge of the binding. It fell off, onto the floor, opened. Words scrawled in tiny cursive letters littered the page, with a date at the top. She picked it up, reading the pages curiously. There were a few other books like that on the shelves, only a few were a dark blue.

"What's that?" The little girl asked.

"I think it was a journal…" Ms. Lovett showed her the pages.

"Oh… I can't read." The girl looked back down at the floor.

"You shouldn't be reading it anyway... Going through people's journals as if they weren't right there in front of you!" He looked pallid as he watched the black journal floating and turning pages in mid air. Then he snorted and looked the other way.

"Looks like it was Rosalie's." She shut it, setting it down on the table, and then going back to the bookshelf, she removed all of the black ones. She checked each one of them, confirming they were Rosalie's. She then took down the blue ones and checked them for names. The hand was different, but there were no names. Instead of the tiny cursive letters, these had large loops, and every once in a while, they'd trace over a word very many times.

The journal itself was creaky, not having been opened in a long time. Ms. Lovett set it in the stack of blue journals, next to the black ones. There was seven of the black ones total. She had thought there were eight... She looked around briefly, making sure one hadn't fallen from the stack.

………………………………………..

Sweeney made sure the door was locked, and sat down in his chair. He pulled the leather-bound book out of his jacket pocket and opened it up to a random page.

_I was watching mom run around the kitchen crazily this morning. She seemed to be extremely happy. I don't get why my parents think an anniversary is such a big deal. Being stuck together for 8 years doesn't sound like much fun. _

_Dad went out earlier to get ready for it with his friends at this new barber's place. They were supposed to be back hours ago. Mom's mad at him. She's awful when she's angry. I wish he'd come back soon so mom would stop._

Sweeney's mind lingered back to the scars up and down Rosalie's arm. He turned the page.

_It's my 6__th__ birthday. Mom's making so much noise it's unbearable. I locked myself in the library, but noise carries through the house so easily. I hid under the study desk, hoping it would muffle some of the sound. I don't think dad will be back soon, but I kept telling myself he'll come through those doors. And he'll be laughing. Saying; Happy Birthday Rosie! He'll come in with chocolates for mom and flowers. And he'll save one rose for me like he does every year. A big white one that I'll press in one of my favorite books. And he'll say it was all a joke. Or he'll tell her he had to find a carriage that will take us away from London. We'll go somewhere without people, and it'll be only us._

…………………………………………..

Carson and Ms. Lovett were left to watch after Rosalie. Actually, Ms. Lovett was left in charge, because Sweeney didn't trust Carson. Neither of them did, but he wanted to stay by her side all the same.

Ms. Lovett fell back into the couch, making herself comfortable. She reached out for one of the blue leather-bound books.

"I thought it wasn' very nice to read her journal." The little girl spoke.

"Wot's your name?" Ms. Lovett asked kindly.

"Maddie. Me real name's Madelyn, but I don't like peoples callin' me that. Some people calls me Mad, too, cos-…"

"Maddie. Well, Maddie, these blue journals aren't even hers. So if I don't know whos they are, not much harm can be done, can it?" Maddie started to argue, but stopped herself. Ms. Lovett opened the blue journal and began to read.

_Rosalie insisted I start one of these. When I asked her why, she didn't really have an answer. She guessed so that I could remember important dates or practice my writing. I laughed and asked is she was complimenting me or insulting me. She looked __**absolutely**__ horrified when I asked her. I wonder if I said something wrong._

When he wrote 'absolutely', he must have been deciding how to describe it and re-traced it over and over again.

_We were at my Aunt's creek today. Rosalie was looking for frogs again, but she seemed to be deciding something. I was drawing her in my __**sketchbook**__, and pretended not to notice her crawling up to me. She kissed me (kissed!) on the cheek, and ran back down to the creek. Her face was extremely pink with embarrassment (for some reason she doesn't tan at all! Not ever a shade darker. Always so pale…). So I continued to doodle as if nothing happened, even though I felt so happy. She looked back at me. She seemed confused, and then determined._

_So she came back up, and did it again. She looked back at me, and the same as before. She did it five times total. The sixth time, I turned my head, so she kissed me right on my lips. I was overflowing with pride, but she was shocked and was on all fours (still in her crawling position) for a moment. She then passed out! I was scared that I killed her! Then she came back to only a few minutes later. Then we lay on the grass together for a while watching __**the clouds**__ until my Aunt came out._

…………………………………….

_It's been a year since dad disappeared. I hate him, now. Mom was quiet today. I was helping Doris get our tea together for this afternoon, and I was wearing my birthday dress mother got me. I loved it. I went out to the parlor, in a rather unusual cheery mood (maybe it was because it was my birthday?). My mother ruined it. She seemed slightly happy for a moment when I came out. I gave her the white lily cup with blue and turquoise on it. It was her favorite. I took the little lilac one, like I always did. I asked her how much sugar she wanted. She said she had her own special sugar, and shook her head. So I went on and put some of the regular one in mine. She put her sugar in, too. It was in an odd case. I should have asked her about it. But I didn't. _

'_Happy Birthday.' She whispered. Then she took a sip. She fell to the floor._

_She wouldn't wake up._


	13. Chapter 13

Rosalie shut the book, face pale

Rosalie shut the book, face paler than usual. The cover read; _'Benjamin Barker'_. Stewart leaned over her shoulder.

"I told you."

………………………………………….

Sweeney went back down the flight of stairs to the pie shop, still looking at one of the pages. On it were several pictures. One of a man in his early thirties, another of a woman with long light colored hair, and the third one of a large house.

He shoved the leather bound book into his pocket, so he could slip it back into the pile. He paused as he saw a large group lingering outside of the shop. A woman in a large hat was stomping up to the door. She pounded on it three times.

"Open up! Open up right now, or I'll..!" She shrieked. Another man came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. He whispered something in her ear, and she smiled wickedly. The man then rapped on the door with his knuckles. Sweeney saw the little street girl peering out through the window, mouth in a large 'O' shape. The girl let the curtains fall back into place, and there was some shouting from inside.

The door opened slowly and the little girl peeked out from behind it.

"Yes?" She said quietly.

"This is Judge Kinglet, and he'd like a word with the missus Ashton here."

"Missus Ashton is sick. Can I tell her you came, or…"

"Let me rephrase this. I will see her now." He pushed the door open the rest of the way. He shoved her aside and made his way in. "Actually, I came to see my son." He closed the door behind him. "The watchmen have noticed your constant sneaking off, and I'm quite tired of you avoiding me." He said loudly. Ms. Lovett noticed Carson flinch.

The Judge made his way around the kitchen, and then went off into the living room. "I thought so…" He murmured. He looked from Carson to Rosalie, face pale. "Come. Your mother is worried." The little girl suddenly came into the room, behind the Judge.

"'Scuse me mister, but did you say you were Judge _Kinglet?_" She smiled extra sweetly. "Cos if yous are, I got something to show you!" She stood on the balls of her heels, rocking back and forth. It would have been cute on a girl in a dress, but the school boy uniform had a strange effect. He turned to her.

"What is it?" He snapped.

"It's in here somewheres…" The girl started to go through her pockets, then produced one of Sweeney's razors. "Lookit!" She waved it over her head. There was a loud 'thunk' as Sweeney hit the back of his head with a book. The Judge collapsed to the floor.

"_**WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!**_**" **There was a loud shriek. Everyone's hearts skipped a beat (at least, those who were alive and/or conscious), and then looked over at Rosalie. She was sitting bolt upright in the arm chair.

"I was about to say the same goddamn thing!" Carson shouted.

"Quit shouting! There's a whole mob outside…"

"But you just knocked out my dad!!" Both of them yelled. There was a long silence, and then Carson spoke.

"Your dad?" He said quietly.

"Yeah! He disappeared when I was six…"

"But his name's Judge Kinglet, not Ashton…" Rosalie frowned as the Judge began to stir.

"Kinglet…" The Judge sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He then turned to Rosalie, face filled with sorrow.

"Rosie? I'm sorry, I…"

"Kinglet? You left, because you had another family…" She chuckled to herself darkly. "You… Are the father of David? David Kinglet?" She rose from her seat and was on her knees beside him as he nodded. "Well, then…" she said softly. She went to hug him, arms wrapping around him tight. She put her head on his shoulder, and he slowly hugged her too.

Then, in one swift move, she grabbed the razor that Maddie had dropped earlier in surprise, and stabbed it into the back of her father.

She stood up to see the miserable shock on his face. She wiped her mouth with her scarred hand.

"A heartless old man, and a heartless killer. I figured you'd be related. Mom had a heart, but it was a fragile thing. I guess I take after the both of you. I shouldn't have made that mistake, and I won't make it again." Carson stared at his bleeding father in disbelief, then back to Rosalie.

"Rosalie… I… You…"

"I didn't kill him for me. I did it for mom, and all the other women he's hurt. I suppose you, too, I guess."

"Thanks?" He muttered. Sweeney took his razor out of the man's back with a tug, blood went everywhere.

"You lied to me about your name." Rosalie looked over at him. "I can't trust you…"

"I know." He glanced around the room. "But I won't tell. I had to keep the other ghost's killings a secret, too."

"Fine. What about the little girl?"

"Me? You won't haves to worry! I won't tell noone! I promise!"

"Remember you wanting to help me around shop? Well, that's what you'll be doing. You won't be allowed to leave the place, got it? Your mouth is sealed."

"Yes, ma'am!" Rosalie then fell back into the chair, face in hands.

…………………………………….

Rosalie and Ms. Lovett finished off Sweeney's last customer. Rosalie was wiping the cleaver clean as Ms. Lovett shoved the tray into the oven. Ms. Lovett was humming happily, as she shut the door.

"Alright, what's going on?" Rosalie slapped the cleaver onto the table, frustrated.

"Wot?"

"You're humming. What's going on?"

"Nothing," She said, a knowing smile slipping on her face. Ms. Lovett continued up the stairs and Rosalie stayed behind her. Ms. Lovett to Sweeney's shop, as Rosalie wandered to the crowd of customers, seating them and placing pies in front of them.

Ms. Lovett caught Sweeney reading one of the leather bound journals in his chair.

"Mr. T!" She gasped. "Wot're you doing?" By the color of the leather, she could see that it was Rosalie's, and not her admirers. He ignored her, turning the page. "Doesn' she sound like one of the sweetest things? At least when she was younger…"

"More like a tortured soul…"

"I'd say sweetest thing…"

"The sweetest tortured soul I've ever seen."

Carson was watching Rosalie making her rounds through the door's window. The black and white cat was following her, going about as if he owned the place. Occasionally she'd carry the cat around and talk to it before setting it down and going back to business.

"You know she named the cat after you? She probably hates me now she knows that the murderer of her husband is my brother. I feel sort of sick, knowing that I had a crush on my half sister…" Carson sighed. "It all sounds so silly, now."

"Well, you two look entirely different. It's no wonder you didn't suspect."

"It's true. You look plain next to her…"

"And what're you trying to get across by that?" He grunted.


End file.
